What If?
by NightIntent
Summary: What would it be like if all the characters in fairy tales were... different? How would the stories turn out in the end?
1. Snow White

NightIntent: My, the things boredom makes me wonder about. This is, mostly, just a bit of a joke, and it was entertaining for me to write. I hope you all like it.

Disclaimer: I don't own Snow White.

* * *

Tala's fall, and her plot to get back up. A friend's tolerance, and a prince's true nature. The story of Snow White.

* * *

Tala's eyes flickered open. She remembered what was going to happen that day and smiled. Tala would be getting a well-planned "lucky" break. Lucky for her, that is. Not so much for the dwarves that forced her to slave away all day, under the pretense that they liked her. But Tala had found a way to get away without going anywhere. And those stupid dwarves wouldn't suspect a thing. 

"I love today already," she murmured to herself, her smile turning wicked. She tossed the covers off the bed, then straightened them and got dressed. That day, Tala went about her work singing. Contrary to popular belief, she loathed both singing and housework. The only reason that she had been working for the dwarves for so long was because she had no choice. If she wasn't useful to them, the dwarves would kill her.

_Though I suppose they like me well enough now_, Tala thought. Her smile widened into an even wickeder grin. _Hopefully, they like me enough to not bury my "dead" body._ "I can't wait until Kaila gets here," Tala muttered. "After today, I'll never have to do housework again."

Starting to hum again, Tala moved downstairs, to the kitchen. She got a sponge and cleaner from below the sin, and began scrubbing the sink and counters. To pass the time, she mopped the floor, too. After she finished that, she decided she would sit in the living room to wait for Kaila to arrive. "Great, now I'm bored," Tala remarked to the air around her.

All of a sudden, a bird flew in through an open window. "Was that window open before?" Tala asked. Shrugging, she dismissed the question and went to get the bird out of the house. It had flown up to the rafters, and was sitting there, staring at Tala in a distinctly mocking way.

"Why you little--" Tala muttered. "Get down here, damn it!" She started to climb the stairs, grabbing the broom on the way up. Brandishing her household weapon, Tala walked calmly towards the bird, talking to it as she got closer. "There now, it's okay, little bird," she said, raising the broom to strike the bird down to the floor. "You're safe here. I won't hurt you." _Much_, she added silently to herself.

Right before Tala was about to strike, the bird flew to the other side of the rafters. "Damn you!" Tala exclaimed quietly. "Get back here, so I can smack the hell out of you!"

The bird whistled softly and tipped its head to the side, staring at Tala. Tala nearly growled. "You thrice-cursed little idiot bird, get back here!" she half-yelled. Tala sprinted down the stairs, toward that side of the room. When she was directly below the bird, she threw the broom straight up in the air, expecting it to hit the bird. The result was that the bird flew away.

And Tala was stuck underneath a broom being pulled inexorably downwards by gravity. "Why can't I ever think these things through?" Tala asked herself as the broom fell. It hit her right on the head. "Ow." She grabbed the broom from where it had fallen on the ground and looked around for where the bird had gone.

The bird was exactly where it had been the first time that it'd landed on the rafters. "Damn it!" Tala shrieked. She marched over to the couch, grabbed a pillow, and launched it at the bird. Without moving, she watched where the bird landed again and threw another pillow at it. And another after that. She kept throwing pillows until she was out of ammunition.

Muttering curses on all birds under her breath, Tala went into the kitchen to find something to chase the cursed animal out of the house. Her gaze alighted on something. Of course! Why hadn't she thought of it before? One of the dwarves was desperately fond of poppy seeds, and sprinkled them on almost everything. There was a large bag of them in the pantry. She grabbed a handful and brought it out into the living room.

"Here, little bird," she called sweetly. "Look what I've got for you. Some nice poppy seeds. Come and get them." She dropped the poppy seeds on the floor and went back a few steps. She grabbed the first thing that came to her hand, which just happened to be a mop that she'd leaned there sometime before. The bird cocked its head at Tala and just stared for several moments.

Finally, just when Tala had given up on it, the bird flew down and began to eat the poppy seeds. Tala waited a few moments, until she thought it was engrossed in its eating, then struck. With a triumphant cry, she swung the mop down and hit the bird. With a startled cry, the bird flew up into the air and out the window.

"Ha!" Tala yelled after it. "I got you! Think you can beat me? Stupid bird!"

"Yelling at birds now, Tala?" someone asked. Tala jumped and looked around. Leaning on the wall next to the window was a tall, blonde-haired girl. "You get weirder every time I see you."

"Kaila!" Tala cried. "Finally! I've been waiting for you all day!"

"No kidding," Kaila said. "Now, should we get this over with? I need to go find that prince of yours, too, remember. So. Here's what you asked for." Reaching into her pocket, Kaila pulled out an apple, a few herbs, and a small bag. "Let's begin, shall we?"

Tala took a bite of the apple while Kaila muttered something over the herbs and bag. "Good, that's done," Kaila said in satisfaction. "Give me the apple back." She tucked the apple back into her pocket and pushed the herbs and bag toward Tala. "Put the herbs into this bag. The herbs are spelled to make you sleep until I release the spell. The bag… well, that's to put them in to make the tea. I just spelled it to make sure that the water wouldn't ruin the enchantment. So, that's it, then. I'll see you in a few days when you wake up."

"Yeah," Tala said happily. She gathered up the items. "Wait! Don't you need to leave the apple?"

"Good point," Kaila said. She pulled the apple back out and gave it to Tala. "I'm going to go find Billy, then."

"Billy?" Tala asked, confused.

"Your prince," Kaila said. At Tala's still-perplexed expression, Kaila sighed. "His name's William, isn't it? William, Bill, Billy. You know how much I hate the names William and Bill. But I have no problem with Billy."

"Yeah, sure," Tala said. "See you in a week or so, then." Kaila nodded to Tala and walked out the door. "Yes!" Tala exclaimed. "I can finally get out of this stupid hellhole!" She ran to the kitchen and put water on the stove to boil. As she waited for the water to heat up, she got out a mug, put the herbs into the bag, and the bag into the mug.

Soon, the water was heated enough to make tea. Tala didn't wait for the water to boil, she was too impatient. She quickly drank a few sips of the tea. And nearly gagged. "She could've mentioned how bitter it--" Tala collapsed onto the floor in a dead faint, the mug and apple rolling away from her, tea seeping slowly into the wooden floor.

Later that day, when it was nearly dark, the dwarves came home. "Hey, Snowy!" they called. "Why don't we smell our dinner?" As they walked into the kitchen, they saw Tala lying on the floor, with the wooden floors still wet. They gathered around her, exclaiming at what had happened.

"Oh, my!" one shouted. "What could have happened to her?"

"It was this apple!" another cried. "It must have been poisoned. Or gone bad. Or maybe both!"

"Yes, yes," a third dwarf said. "But what about this tea cup here? What could this have been?"

"Hm," yet another dwarf said. "Maybe she was having tea, got hungry, and decided to eat something. And that just happened to be a bad, poisoned apple."

"Who cares? Let's just bury her and get it over with," a fifth dwarf said. He moved to pick up Tala's prone body and drag her to the door.

"No, no, we can't!" the other six dwarfs exclaimed. "She's too beautiful to bury in the ground!"

"You didn't care when she was alive," the one who wanted to bury Tala said. "Why do you care now?"

"Because you have to honor the dead," the first dwarf said. "We'll make her a glass coffin and keep her in that, in the clearing on the way to work. That way, we can look at her every day, on the way there and the way back. Does that work for everyone?"

There was a muttering of general agreement, and all the dwarves went outside and started on the coffin. Because they just _happened_ to have extra glass lying around. They worked through the night. By the time the sun rose, Tala was lying in her new coffin.

"Perfect," a few dwarves sighed. "Just perfect." They went back to their house for a couple hours of sleep before they had to go back to work.

A few days passed with nothing happening. Tala hadn't woken up from her herb-induced coma yet. On the sixth day after Tala had drunk the tea, she woke up. That afternoon, Kaila came back. Without William.

"Where is he?" Tala demanded. "You said you'd bring him! Oh, what will I do without my prince! Now I can't have my nice, perfect, fairy tale-esque ending!"

"Quit your whining," Kaila said. "I couldn't find him. I'll find you another prince. Just wait a few days."

"I can't wait a few days!" Tala wailed. "Do you have any idea how hard it is to lie still all day, every day, for days in a row? For me, that's impossible! I'll just escape now, and I'll go find William myself."

"Billy, not William," Kaila corrected. "All right, fine. Let's go, then, before those dwarves get back. Come on, hurry up."

Tala got up and walked off with Kaila. "So, where's Wi—Billy's castle?" she inquired.

"You don't know?" Kaila demanded. "But… don't you love him? How can you not know were he lives?"

"Well, he always came to visit me," Tala said by way of explanation. "I never went to his palace. Why should I have? He was the one coming to court _me_, after all."

Kaila glared at her friend. "Damn princesses," she muttered under her breath. "Spoiled, rotten, lazy princesses." Louder, she said, "I don't know where it is, either, though. Let's pretend it's a three day walk from here, shall we?"

"Three days!" Tala squawked. "I can't walk for that long!"

"You've been doing chores for months. Why can't you walk for three days?" Kaila asked.

"Chores are chores," Tala explained. "Walking is walking. There's a difference."

Kaila rolled her eyes and started walking. "Either deal with it, or stay here," she said over her shoulder. "So, are you coming?"

"Wait for me!" Tala called in a whiny voice. "I don't want to be left behind!" She ran after Kaila, who was walking fairly fast. "No, don't leave me behind! I have to find my William!" When Kaila glared at her, she quickly amended, "Billy, Billy. I know."

"So walk faster," Kaila said. Kaila herself sped up, looking over her shoulder at Tala. She rolled her eyes and paused for a few seconds.

Tala ran up to Kaila. "You know, for a best friend, you're awful mean," she remarked, panting. "So, where are we going to go to find out where Wi—Billy's castle is?"

"We'll ask the people in his kingdom," Kaila explained. "You _do_ know where that is, right?"

"Of course!" Tala exclaimed indignantly. "It's the kingdom of… of… um… Haran!" She looked triumphant at having remembered that.

"Tala. That's _your_ kingdom."

"Oh. Right. Then it's the kingdom _next_ to it."

"Which one?"

"Um. To the north?"

"I think we're in for a long journey."

Tala looked pouty.

* * *

A few days later, Tala was lying on the round in the morning, moaning, "Oh, it hurts! I can't sleep on the ground! Princesses aren't made to sleep on the ground! Why does it have to take so long to get to my own, dear prince?" 

"Quit your whining," Kaila snapped. "Just shut up. It's not my fault that you can't remember where Billy lives. If you want to find him so bad, remember where he lives and we won't have to circle around all the kingdoms around yours."

"But I caaaaan't!" Tala whined. "It's not that easy to remember things, you know."

"Sure it is, when you're not a self-obsessed, spoiled snob of a princess," Kaila muttered. "Why am _I_ stuck being your friend? Why couldn't you have suckered some other idiot into it?"

"Because you were there, and no one else was." Tala got up slowly. "Let's go. The faster we find Wil—Billy, the sooner I can sleep in a bed."

"Good, so you can ask the next villager we meet if there's a Prince William who rules their country."

"Nooo! I can't talk to peasants!" Tala cried. "That's so… so… low! Who do you think I am!"

"I believe I said that already," Kaila replied. "Come on, let's find someone to ask first."

The two walked on. A couple of hours later, they came to the first city they'd seen since crossing the border into this new kingdom. "Hooray, a bed!" Tala cried, walking faster.

Kaila grabbed Tala's shirt. "Calm down and slow down. There's no rush. Besides, we're not staying here. You want to find Billy, right?"

Tala pouted. "Fine. But I still want to get there faster."

Kaila shrugged. "Do what you want. But you're running on your own, and that means you have to ask."

"Oh," Tala said. She slowed down.

Kaila made a face behind Tala's back. "Fine, we'll go faster." Kaila walked ahead of Tala until they got to the city. When they got there, Tala started darting around, looking at everything around her.

"City, city!" she chanted, staring into all the shops. "Oh, I do love cities! They're so… civilized!" She laughed.

"Yeah, yeah, I get it," Kaila said irritably. "Shut up already. Just stand here for a second." Leaving Tala to stare into the window, Kaila went into the shop they were standing in front of. "Excuse me," she said, addressing the shopkeeper, "but I was wondering if, perhaps, you have a prince in this country named William."

"Why, yes we do, Missy," the shopkeeper replied. "Why do you ask?"

"Do you have any idea where his castle is?" Kaila asked.

"Of course. Just follow the main road. The one just outside this shop."

"Thank you very much," Kaila said. She exited the shop. Tala was still staring inside the window. "Come on, princess, let's get going. This is the right place, we just have to follow this road here."

"Hooray!" Tala cried, starting down the road with a single-minded determination. "Let's get going!"

Kaila rolled her eyes and followed.

* * *

The two walked for a few more days. "Oww!" Tala whined. "My legs hurt! Are we almost there?" 

"I told you five minutes ago," Kaila said. "We've only got about five miles to go. Give or take about three more."

Tala groaned wordlessly. "But I want to be there _now_!" she exclaimed.

"Deal with is," Kaila said. Suddenly, the sound of hooves hitting the ground sounded behind them. Kaila ordered, "Move to the left. No, your _other_ left!"

The horses passed. Tala looked at their riders. She screeched. "William!" she yelled, racing forward. "William, it's me! Tala! Don't you remember me?" She made a puppy-dog face.

The lead rider, William, looked down at Tala as though she were a piece of dirt stuck on his shoe. "I know no Tala. Be gone, cur."

Tala's eyes widened and filled with tears as her prince rode off. "B-but, he said he loved me," she said, trembling.

"That shows just how pleasant men are." Kaila threw an arm around Tala's shoulders. "Come on, let's go find some work or something. We're low on cash." Tala, still pouting, let Kaila lead her back the way they'd come. Kaila grinned and added, "I'm sure you could work as a housekeeper."

* * *

NightIntent: Okay, so I love the evil little whiny princess types. They're entertaining. I _was_ going to make it a happy ending, but... that just didn't make sense to me. After all, she's been gone for months, and the prince probably forgot about her. Plus, she's been doing chores the whole time. Why would a prince want a princess who's been doing chores for months. Besides that, I have a plan for all my stories in this fan fiction. And they all have to do with the time in which Tala's gone, and what dear Billy does. Next is Cinderella. Please review!


	2. Cinderella

NightIntent: This is so entertaining to write. Okay, I kinda brush over Elle's getting ready for the ball. I'm not good at stuff like that. So bear with me. And I hope you like it anyway.

Disclaimer: I don't own the fairy tale.

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A prince's betrayal and a girl's ambition. A plan to be princess and a bet on the outcome. The tale of Cinderella.

* * *

Elle woke up to the sound of birds twittering outside her window. She got up, sighing happily. "Another beautiful day," she said. Her voice turned sly. "The day of the prince's ball. Time to start getting ready. It's going to take all day." She grinned wickedly and went into the bathroom. She got into the waiting bath that had been prepared by the maid a little while before, and kept hot with boiling water. Sliding in, she sighed again.

After a time, one of Elle's stepsisters peeked into the bathroom. "Elle, hurry up," she whined. "We have to take a bath, too."

"Quit your whining," Elle snarled. "I'm in here now, deal with it. Your whining doesn't make me want to go any faster It does the exact opposite. Now buzz off!"

Pouting, the sister left. About ten minutes later, Elle got out of the tub. She dried off slowly, taking care with her hair. She went back to her room to brush her long hair. She left it loose to let it dry.

Elle's other stepsister walked into her room. "Elle, I don't know what to wear," she lamented, cringing, waiting for the backlash of Elle's temper.

"Hmm," Elle said, surprising her sister. "Wear that yellow dress. It'll show off your hair well."

"Thank you!" the stepsister exclaimed. She ran from the room to get ready.

Elle rolled her eyes. "Idiots, all of them," she muttered. "Now, what dress should I wear?" Elle looked into her closet, pulling out some clothes, tossing some aside, others onto her bed. When she'd emptied her closet, she started to sort through the clothes on her bed. Eventually, she settled on a long, low-cut, dark gray, clinging silk dress. It matched her eyes almost perfectly, and she loved it. "Perfect," Elle breathed. "Now to decide on make up."

All of Elle's make up was on her mirrored dresser. She dumped it all out onto it and started experimenting. It took her nearly three hours, and many face-washings, but she finally settled on what she thought was the perfect combination of the perfect colors. She sighed happily. "Hopefully, all this work will pay off. Hey, Mom!" she called, referring to her stepmother. "When do we leave?"

"In about four hours!" her stepmother's response came from down the hall.

Elle sighed and sat down to waste the three hours she had until she needed to start getting ready. "Oh! I know!" she said, sitting bolt upright. "I'll figure out my hairstyle. Then I won't have to do that later." It took her a full two and a half hours to settle on her "perfect" style. She smiled into the mirror. "Good, that's settled. Now, what else? I don't have all that much to do now."

Finally, Elle decided she wanted to pluck her eyebrows, so they'd look nice for the prince. But that only burned through a few minutes. So she plucked out the hairs on her upper lip and washed her face again, careful not to upset her hair. "Good enough," she said. "Time to get ready."

Thanks to her day of careful planning, Elle was ready to go to the ball, her hair, make up, and dress perfectly coordinated, in less than half an hour more. She glanced into the mirror and realized that her stomach bulged out slightly. Elle frowned. "That's not good. I think I need a corset." She pulled off her dress and ran to her closet to dig one out. She put it on and pulled the laces as tight as she could get them by herself, then put her dress back on. Another glance at the mirror to assure herself that she was perfect, and Elle walked out of her room.

"About time," her stepmother complained. "We've been waiting for you."

"You can't rush perfection," Elle said breathlessly. She was having trouble breathing with the corset on. "Shall we go now?"

"We would have left at least ten minutes ago, of you hadn't taken forever to get ready," one of her stepsisters complained.

"Complaining doesn't become you," Elle remarked. "And you weren't pretty to start with. Let's go, I have to make my grand entrance!" She flounced out the door, the skirt of her dress whispering quietly as she moved.

Elle got into the waiting couch first, letting the coachman lift her into it. If she tried to climb up by herself, her dress might get ruined! And then all her hard work would be for nothing, and she wouldn't be able to go to the ball. She'd already missed the first two nights on purpose, so that she could be the mysterious newcomer on the last night. But if she missed her chance, she would never forgive whoever she pinned the responsibility on. Which would probably be her stepmother and stepsisters, for choosing a coach with a jagged step.

As it was, Elle got on the coach fine, as did her stepmother and two stepsisters. The door shut firmly (right on Elle's stepmother's dress, but Elle wasn't about to point that out) and the coach jolted forward.

"Ugh, what a bumpy coach!" Elle exclaimed, her voice disgusted. "Couldn't you have hired a decent coach? And on the last night of the ball, too! Really, are you _trying_ to ruin my debut into society?" It was true. This was Elle's first real venture into the world. She usually just lay about the house, letting everyone do everything for her. Well, except for the times she went for a walk around the grounds. It wasn't easy to maintain her hourglass figure.

After a period of silence, Elle spoke up. "How about we make a bet? If I can't get the prince to fall in love with me at midnight, I'll do all the chores around the house for a year. I leave at the stroke of midnight. And you three do, too. Do we have a deal?"

Her stepmother smirked, her eyes glinting dangerously. "I think we do. But remember, no later than midnight. Or you forfeit and do the chores whether you make him fall in love with you or not. So you must refuse his proposal of marriage."

"Fine." Elle turned to stare out the window of the coach, lapsing back into silence. Her stomach was fluttering with nerves and anticipation.

The four finally reached the palace. Elle was fidgeting with her hands a bit, wishing she'd polished them that day, or at least filed them or worn gloves. Her hands weren't perfect, by her standards. Sighing at her lack of forethought, she got out of the coach. She smiled at the footman and waltzed to the door to the ballroom. There was a line of women waiting to be introduced to the prince, just inside the door.

Elle's first sight of the prince took her breath away. He was just as handsome as she'd envisioned, and she knew that this was the man for her. She stepped into the line, content to wait the night away just to say a few words to the prince. She was amazed that there were still so many girls wanting to meet the prince, even on the third night. But she was ready to wait. As long as it didn't take until after midnight.

Elle had arrived at eight. At nine thirty, she was two people away from taking to the prince. Then one. And, finally, after an hour and a half of waiting, Elle was able to talk to the man she had fallen in love with at first sight. When the prince acknowledged her, Elle stepped forward and curtseyed deeply to her prince. She straightened and smiled at him, confident in her appearance and manners. "Go evening, my prince. How goes it with you on this fine night?"

"Dully," he responded. "Unless I miss my mark, I haven't seen you here on the last two nights. Surely I wouldn't have missed such a golden maiden amongst all these frauds."

Blushing prettily, Elle replied, "No, indeed, I have been feeling unwell the last two days. I just recovered late this afternoon, and felt well enough to come today."

"Then we have all been deprived of the company of a beautiful woman," the prince said gallantly. "When I have gone finished talking to the rest of this tedious line, would you save me a dance?"

"Of course, my prince," Elle simpered. "As many dances as my prince desires. But I must leave at midnight. My mother fears that I am not yet well, and does not wish for me to stay out too late."

"It will not take that long," the prince said. "I will see you before midnight, then."

Still smiling, Elle walked away from the prince. As soon as her back was turned to him and he couldn't see her face, Elle's smile turned wicked. She sighed, "That was too easy. Way, way too easy."

One of Elle's stepsisters walked up to her. "I hope you're ready to clean up after us, Cinderella!" she hissed at Elle.

"Oooh, I'm scared," Elle said. "How long did it take you to come up with _that_? Been thinking about it since the coach ride? How pathetic. Not to mention petty."

Her stepsister glared. "I'm not the one who will be doing the housework, now am I?" she retorted.

Elle rolled her eyes and walked away. "Cinderella," she muttered, "really. How stupid."

A man approached Elle. Quickly, she pulled on her figurative mask of the simpering, innocent young woman that she'd used for the prince. "Good evening, sir," she said. "How do you do on this night?"

"Fine and well," the man responded. "Would the beautiful maiden honor me with a dance?"

"Beautiful maiden?" Elle inquired, pretending ignorance to the compliment and looking around her.

"Why, you, good madam," the man said. "Would you honor me with a dance?"

"Oh," Elle said, giggling and blushing faintly. "Why, of course, sir. I would be honored." She took his offered hand and he swept her into the dance. As she danced with the man, Elle kept an eye on the prince, watching his reaction. When he saw her dancing with another man, his expression was none too happy. Elle smiled smugly. He was already hers, even if it _was_ just infatuation. It was all she really needed.

The dance ended, and Elle curtseyed as the man bowed. In the time that the dance had taken, most of the remainder of the prince's receiving line was gone. A few minutes later, the prince walked over to her. "I am very sorry it took me so long," he apologized, bowing. "The women all wished to keep me by them, chattering and trying to keep my attention. But I had eyes only for you, my sweet." He blinked. "Which reminds me. You never told me your name. What is it?"

Elle giggled. "I am called Elle, my prince. And what name, pray tell, do you go by?" She fluttered her eyelashes at him flirtatiously as the prince led her back onto the dance floor.

"My name is William," the prince said.

"And a fine name it is," Elle said, smiling.

"Indeed it is," William said, smiling back down at her.

The music started, and Elle and William danced. They danced for a long time, and Elle completely lost track of the time, using all her practiced skill in flirting to snare the prince's heart, more and more as time went by. Suddenly, they were interrupted by the loud chiming of the clock, louder than it had been before.

"Oh!" Elle exclaimed. "It's midnight already? I must go!" In the middle of the dance, Elle tugged free of William's hands and ran to the door. One of her delicate, small gray shoes (that matched her dress perfectly, even as they were hid by it) fell off her foot as she ran, but she didn't dare stop to pick it up. She ran on, out to the coach.

"You're late," Elle's stepmother said sourly. She rapped on the top of the coach, to tell the driver he could leave.

"So, how did it go?" one of her stepsisters asked.

"Oh, well enough, I suppose," Elle replied airily. "He seemed to like me well enough, but I suppose we'll find out tomorrow. I hope he returns my shoe. This is my favorite pair." She looked sourly at her well-formed, tiny bare foot. "We'll see," she repeated, "we'll see."

The next morning, Elle woke up early, despite her late night. She hadn't been able to get to sleep easily the night before, the excitement that she'd suppressed while with the prince had hither on the coach ride home, causing her to start fidgeting and worrying. She hoped the prince would come for her.

Elle sprang out of bed, excitement flooding her body. She went into the bathroom and washed up, then dressed in semi-casual formal clothing, still hoping in her heart that William would come for her.

By that afternoon, Elle had given up hope. Her stepmother came into he room and gave her an old, ragged dress, a bucket, and a sponge.

"Here," she said mockingly. "Start cleaning the kitchen."

Sighing, Elle went to do as she had promised.

* * *

NightIntent: Yeah... Please keep in mind all this happened while Tala was in the dwarves' cottage. Otherwise this whole thing makes no sense. I think I'll do Briar Rose next. I'm trying to make it so William won't turn up in that one, but we'll see. 


	3. Briar Rose

NightIntent: Sorry, it took longer than I expected. But I got a better idea for it and deleted what I'd had before. So it took a little while. I hope it was worth the wait.

Disclaimer: I don't own te fairy tale.

* * *

A princess's love, and over-protective parents. A "good" plan gone very, very wrong. This is Briar Rose.

* * *

"Derek, I think my parents have found out about us," Princess Karen said. "We might have to stop seeing each other." 

"But why, my love?" the man sitting next to her asked. The darkness hid his expression. "Shouldn't they be happy that you're in love with someone? After all, you're their only daughter."

"That's the problem," Karen murmured. "I'm their only daughter, they want me to marry a prince. I'm afraid they may do something drastic."

"Like what?" Derek demanded. "Put you to sleep for a hundred years, like in that fairy tale?"

"Actually, they've threatened."

Derek snorted. "Again, you're their only daughter. They won't do that."

"We'll see."

"Yes. We will."

"_They did what!_" Derek demanded the next day. "They put their _only daughter_ to sleep, until they feel they can find a prince suitable enough for her? Are they completely insane?"

"Seems that way," the man he'd heard the information from said. "But they've done it. Bought the spell and got it invoked. Even showed the girl to a bunch of peasants like us."

Derek sighed. "Now what am I going to do?"

"How about getting over her?" the man suggested. "I know plenty of women who would love to… get to know you better, if you know what I mean." He grinned suggestively.

Derek tilted his head a bit, thinking over the offer. Then he grinned in return. "Sure. Let me meet these women."

The two men stood up and left the tavern they were in, both grinning lewdly.

* * *

Years passed. Karen's parents interviewed countless princes, young and old, knowing that they could wait for a prince to grow up. While she slept, Karen didn't age at all. Despite this, they couldn't find a single prince they deemed worthy of their daughter. They grew old, and older still. When it became obvious that they wouldn't find anyone for their daughter, they ordered a castle to be built far from anywhere, with a tall, tall fence in front, covered by brambles and roses, and a tall tower where she would sleep. Behind the fence was an alligator-filled moat. To make sure no one who wasn't completely determined to get to their daughter got to her, they also threw in a slew of trained guard geese for days and a small group of dogs for the nighttime. 

All in all, no one could get in unless they really, really wanted to. And no one wanted to.

More years passed. Karen's parents died, and Karen's cousin took over the kingdom.

Partway through the reign of Karen's cousin, a prince heard the tale of the sleeping princess and decided, peril or no, he would try to rescue Karen, and then marry her. This brave prince's name was Allan. So he set out on his journey. Unfortunately for him, his kingdom was the farthest away from the princess's castle. Fortunately, his family was rich, so they could give him fast horses. He reached the castle in a little over two months.

Allan used the journey to plan what he would do when he reached the castle. He didn't come up with much. He figured he'd just wing it when he got there, and not sweat the details. Allan was brave, perhaps, but not the smartest person ever.

So, about two months passed. Uneventfully for Karen, rather strangely for Allan. He was going through a lot of things he normally didn't, having never left home before. But he got through it. Mostly by thinking about what he would say to the princess when he woke her. He didn't even know her name.

"Finally!" Allan said, when the castle came into view. "Now maybe I can see the princess!" After he got through the brambles, over the fence and the moat, while avoiding the alligators, and evading the geese or guard dogs, depending what time he actually got into the castle. But he didn't exactly put this into account.

"Brambles first," Allan remarked. "I'll cut them down, I guess." He started to hack away at the plants with his sword, to nearly no effect. He sheathed the sword and looked at the plants. "hat doesn't seem t be working too well," he commented. "Burning, then. Shouldn't be too hard."

The brambles didn't burn too well, so it was nearly dark when they were all gone. "Better. I'll start over the moat tomorrow." Allan went back to his horse and gear, which was tied to a tree about a quarter mile away from the castle. The horse was a bit nervous from the fire, but calmed down quickly when there was a human presence nearby. Allan settled down for the night and fell asleep.

The next morning, Allan woke up early, when the sun was barely risen. He stretched, changed, reassured his horse, and walked back to the castle. He pulled a few ropes out of his pack. "Um. Now what?" Instead of using the ropes, Allan decided to climb the fence. It wasn't so hard. The stones were all fairly bad. Karen's parents had never bothered to check, so the builders had cheated them a good bit.

At the top of the fence, Allan got his first glimpse of the moat. And the alligators in it. "Wow. Big crocodiles." He sat on the fence for a while, thinking about how he would get over the moat. "Okay. Let's try the ropes, then." Attaching a grappling hook to the end of a rope, Allan swung it over his head, in the style he always imagined people did. He aimed for the castle itself. It fell short. Very short.

"That wasn't supposed to happen," Allan said. "I'll try again." He threw it again, in the same style. After that one fell short, too, he tried to swing it at his side instead. It went a lot farther, almost reaching the castle walls. "Better." He tried again, swinging harder. It hit the wall, wrapping around one of the battalions. "Ha!" Allan blinked. "What now? Oh, right. I have to tie it to… something."

So, instead of doing what he actually wanted to do, which was play Tarzan and swing down on the loose rope, Allan climbed down the fence again and tied the rope to the top of a nearby tree. Scrambling up the fence again, he lost his footing and tumbled back to the ground. Since he had only gone about a length of his body up, he didn't hit too hard. Just enough to bruise.

"Ow," Allan said. He got up, dusted off, and started the climb again. In a few minutes, he was back at the top of the wall. He grabbed a small length of rope from his pocket, took off his pack, laying it on the wall, and, tossing the rope over the long, tied one, started his slide into the castle grounds. He picked up more speed than he realized, and just barely managed to stop from slamming full-length into the walls. As it was, Allan's legs got rather jarred by the impact they took from stopping his movement.

"Um. I think I'm stuck." He craned his neck to look down. He was far above the ground. Rather too far to drop. "And here I didn't bother to bring another rope." Carefully, bracing his feet and hands, Allan tried to climb up. When his hands slipped at the top, he decided down would be better. He didn't notice the geese that were clamoring at the bottom of the wall.

It took him a while, but Allan finally reached the bottom of the wall. And the geese. Before he was able to draw his sword, the geese had bitten chunks out of his clothes. Not to mention him. Mostly his rear end. "Yowch!" he yelled. The second his legs touched the ground, Allan drew his sword and started swinging at the geese. They tried to dodge, but they weren't quite fast enough.

There were eight geese in total. When three had been killed, four or the remaining five decided to flee. The last one was a bit slow on the uptake, and he joined his three dead brethren. Allan wiped his bloody blade on the ground and re-sheathed it. "Well, that was messy," he remarked to himself. "I'll have to remember to take these with me. They'll make a few good meals. If they don't rot before I get to them."

The tower was a formidable one. He looked up to the top, where there was a window. "Why couldn't I have noticed that before? I could have saved time and pain," Allan said. "What's done is done. Where's the entrance? I need to start climbing." The door into the tower was all the way around the tower. Literally. It had been a few feet to Allan's left, but he had been looking to the right, so he missed it and had to walk all the way around the tower. And he never realized his mistake, either.

"Oh no," Allan said, looking up the stairs. "This is going to take a while." Steeling himself for a long walk up a lot of stairs, he started up.

It took him the better part of the day, and a number of rest stops, but Allan finally reached the top. The stairs widened into a room that held nothing but a bed with a girl on it. The window was open to the world, and many different leaves had blown in. A gust of wind came in through the window, unsettling all the leaves and making dust fly.

Allan looked at the princess. "She's beautiful," he breathed. Or she would be, if he could see her face through the dust that coated it. Her hair was the only really clear part of her, and it was still dirty. That many years of not washing, anyone would be dirty. Allan walked closer to Karen, trying to decide if he wanted to kiss her or not.

Surely this wasn't a princess! he thought wonderingly. No princess, even one asleep for nearly a hundred years, could be that dirty and disheveled-looking. He decided that he might as well try. So Allan walked closer to the princess and dusted her face off carefully. She didn't so much as stir. He wasn't even sure she was breathing.

Carefully, Allan pressed his lips to Karen's. He pulled away, expecting her eyelashes to flutter and for her to wake up. Nothing happened. He tried again. Again, no reaction. "What is this!" Allan exclaimed. "Why isn't she waking up! Damn it all, all this work for nothing? I'm going home!" He went back to the stairs and started down. He had a long walk down, and then he'd have to get past the dogs and the moat and the wall. Again. He'd completely forgotten about the geese he'd killed, anxious only to get home.

* * *

NightIntent: The poor geese. I didn't want all of them to get killed, so they retreated. I'm not usre what I'll do next. Something or other. And it may take a while. But I'll try to update before the end of the month. Please review! 


	4. Little Red Riding Hood

NightIntent: So the story's really weird. I couldn't think of any other way to make a weird Little Red Riding Hood. n.n"

Disclaimer: I don't own the fairy tale.

* * *

George was always made fun of. "Little Red Riding Hood," they called him. He'd never figured out why. But it happened, every day, without fail. Maybe it had something to do with that one time….

* * *

"George!" George's mother called. "Come get the food to take to your grandmother! And don't forget to wear that jacket she made you!"

"But Mo-om!" he protested loudly. "I _hate_ that jacket!"

"Get over it!" she yelled back. "It makes your grandmother feel nice."

Grumbling, George pulled the jacket on and grabbed the basket of food. "I'm going now!"

"See you when you get back!" his mother screeched.

George sighed. He was a pudgy boy, and not too pleasant to look at, even if he'd been fit. The two-mile walks to his grandmother's house every week didn't seem to help with that at all. The jacket that he hated so much was mostly a royal purple. The hood had red trimming, which was the thing he hated the most about it.

There was a rustle in the bushes next to the road. George blinked and stared as a big, gray dog slunk out of them. "Hello, dog," he said, trying not to back up. He was deathly afraid of dogs, but still knew enough to not show fear. "How're you today?"

The dog stared at him, then bared its teeth.

"What pretty teeth you have," George stammered. He was, oddly enough, reminded of that one fairy tale… Little Red Riding Hood, that was it. Wasn't there a girl that was eaten by a dog in that one? He was sure that had been it. A dog was a lot like a wolf, right? A nervous smile tugged at George's lips. "Want some food? Huh, dog?" He pulled out something from the basket and threw it at the dog. When the dog was occupied, George sprinted off.

He stopped a very short time later. Long weekly walks or not, he was still out of shape. George continued on his way to his grandmother's house.

The rest of the walk passed without any mishaps. George saw a few people he knew, but didn't wave to them. He wasn't a very friendly person.

"Grandma!" George called as he opened the door. "I've got food for you!"

"Come on in, boy!" she yelled. George walked in. His grandmother, a small, frail old woman, was sitting in a rocking chair near the door to the kitchen, petting a big, gray dog. The same one George had fed on the way there.

George backed away slowly. "What're you doing with a dog, Grandma?" he inquired.

"Dog? What dog?" his grandmother demanded. "This isn't a dog. This here's a wolf, boy. Learn the difference."

"Y-yes, ma'am," George stuttered. "Why is he in here, though?"

"Because he sounded so pitiful, whining and scratching at my door."

"Oh," George said. He as at a loss for words.

Grumbling about stupid boys, George's grandmother stood up and grabbed the basket of food from George. "Here you go, big boy," she said to the wolf, giving him a piece of bread. "Aww, good boy."

The wolf snatched the bread from her hand, gobbling it down. When he finished it, he looked up at he old woman, expecting more. She gave him some meat. After a while, the wolf just snatched the basket from her hand and shoved his nose into it, eating all the food.

"You bad boy!" George's grandmother exclaimed. "That's my food! Not yours!"

The wolf growled at her, momentarily lifting its head from the basket. Then it shoved its face back in and continued eating.

"Well! That's not very polite!" The woman grabbed the wolf by the scruff on his neck and heaved. She wasn't as frail as she looked, George noted once again.

The wolf growled and bit at her. "Stop that!" she snapped, smacking his muzzle lightly. "Be good!"

"Ow!" George's grandmother yelled as the wolf scored a bite. The wolf continued to bite, drawing blood.

George ran to the fridge, opened it, and grabbed the first thing there. He opened the back door in the kitchen and called the wolf, "Hey, dog! Over here! I've got food for you!" When he was sure he had the wolf's attention, George threw the food, whatever it was, out into the yard. The wolf shot after it, and George slammed the door shut behind it, throwing the deadbolt into place.

"Grandma! Are you okay?" he asked, running back to his grandmother.

"I'm fine, I'm fine," she assured him. "You did very well."

George blushed. "Thanks."

His grandmother rolled her eyes. "Like a girl," she muttered under her breath.

The next day, she told her friends all about the incident. From that day on, everyone called George "Little Red Riding Hood," for the red trim on the jacket he'd been wearing. No one actually believe the story. But they called him that anyway.

* * *

NightIntent: Like I said, weird. Hopefully, the next one, whichever that is, turns out better. Please review!


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